


Hello, I'm Still Here

by thatoneeccedentesiast



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gakuen, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Complete, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Student Canada, Teacher Austria
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-04
Updated: 2014-05-04
Packaged: 2018-01-21 22:44:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1566731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatoneeccedentesiast/pseuds/thatoneeccedentesiast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Canada feels like no one cares about him. However, his music teacher Mr. Edelstein is set on proving him wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hello, I'm Still Here

A hurt/comfort between Canada and Austria would be cute. Canada is depressed because nobody ever sees him and he feels he has nothing to live for. However, Austria notices this and confronts him about it. Austria shares with Canada all of the times he has felt ignored and unloved; such as when he and Hungary got a divorce, when he ended up in a wheel chair and even when everyone left his home after The Holy Roman Empire went to war. Austria then proceeds to show Canada how much he really means to people; like France, England, America, and even himself.

~xxx~

Listening with avid interest, Matthew attempts to remember what symphony this is. He knows it's Beethoven...suddenly, it comes to him as a burst of memory. Him. Alone. Studying for the Chemistry test last Sunday as he listens to the prescribed symphony's Mr. Edelstein wants them to recognize for an upcoming quiz. Abruptly, the music is cut short and the slim man stands up; purple eyes darting between his classmates.

Stopping just inches from Yong Soo's desk, the man demands sharply; "Can anyone tell me vho's symphony that vas? Vhat about  _vhich_ symphony?"

Matthew put his hand up, hoping for once in his sixteen years a teacher will see it and call on  _him._ Not his brother. Not another classmate.  _Him_! He  _knows_ this for god's sakes! But as most of his life has been, purple eyes overlook him in favor of a more assertive classmate.

"Yes Mr. Beilschmidt?" Their music teacher asks in anticipation. Feeling once again like he is nobody, Matthew Williams lets his hand fall back to the table and waitsfor the German teenager to answer.

"That vas a clip of Beethoven's fourth symphony," he tells the Mr. Edelstein.

A half-proud smirk lifts the Austrian's lips. "Good," he praises. "Much better than that brother of yours could ever hope to do."

The quiet boy can see his classmate's shoulders tense before he sighs. Ludwig never does like being compared to his brother (then again, neither does he; but that's never stopped anyone). "Thank you sir," the blond finally says.

Nodding, the slim man opens his mouth only for the bell to ring. Kids clambering to get their stuff together, Matthew slowly puts away his notebook and looks out the tall window beside his desk. Hopefully Alfred remembers he doesn't have Hockey practice tonight and will wait for him. Likely he's already forgotten, but if he hurries...

"Mr. Villiams."

The teenager jumps into the air. No one's spoken to him  _all day_ , let alone the one teacher who never seems to fail to mark him absent. Slowly turning around, he takes note of intense purple eyes staring him down.

Fumbling with his zipper, Matt mutters "Mr. Edelstein.."

The music teacher is quiet for a moment, brows scrunched with tension. "Are you alright Mr. Williams?" He inquires after an awkward minute.

"Yeah, I guess," Matthew answers fidgeting. "But I don't know how long that will last at this rate...if I don't get to my brother's car soon, he'll forget about me and I'll have to walk home."

A stern pull coming to his lips, the man gives a curt bob of his head. "I von't keep you long then," he concludes. "I am under the impression that you are frustrated-don't think I haven't noticed, because I have-"

"You-" The blond gapes. Disbelief stealing any other words he might have.

That irritated set to Mr. Edelstein's jaw that appears whenever Yong Soo begins to declare things like pianos, violins, or Classical music came from Korea comes to his features suddenly. "Mr. Villiams," he admonishes. " _You_ vere the one vho said he had places to be! Please let me speak."

Blushing, the teen looks to his toes. Seemingly pleased that his scolding has worked, the music teacher goes on. "You feel ignored and undervalued, but that's simply not the case-"

"Coming from the teacher who always marks me absent."

A glare. "You sit behind Mr. Braginski," he reminds him. "I'm sorry, but you are no vhere near as filled out and I simply can't get it into my mind that you  _are_ there."

It's a reasonable excuse. But that's all it is, an  _excuse._ "What about when I raise my hand? I did that today and a couple days ago too, not once have you called on me. I  _know_ you can see my raised hand behind Ivan!" Matt argues with sudden viciousness.

Purple eyes softened. "Mr. Beilschmidt has been a student of mine a very long time. He vas the brother of my ex-wife's ex-boyfriend. Once ve married, ve vere introduced and vell, he's been under my tutelage since."

"Uh-huh," the blond mumbles with skepticism.

His teacher exhales and pushes his glasses up on his nose. "I know vhat it's like, you know," he whispers.

"Know what  _what's_ like?"

An even stare meets his. "Feeling unloved, forgotten."

Matthew shut up then.

"I remember when Elizaveta left me...I felt that because  _she_ didn't love me, no one loved me. Then, there vas vhen I hurt my back a year later; I vas in a vheelchair for almost a year or so after. During that time, I couldn't do many of the things I used to do vith friends and it seemed as if they'd forgotten me due to it. Here they vere doing all sorts of things together and me? I vas at home in pain and too tired to get out of bed some days."

Leaning back, he opened himself to the teenager. "What about you Mr. Villaims? Vhy do you feel unloved and forgotten?"

"Because," he breathed, licking his lips. "My brother doesn't even remember to save me a  _seat_ at lunch and my papa's more interested in chasing after Arthur-who only ever remembers Alfred exists these days." Feeling that familiar, hopeless rage consuming his heart, he began to shout. "And the only friend I ever had was an exchange student who went back home last spring! I'm lucky if I hear from Carlos* once a month and at this rate, I bet by the time we're in college he'll have forgotten all about me too!"

A hand falls on his shoulder. The teenager stills and looks to his teacher. "I'm sorry things aren't going vell for you Matthew," he apologizes with great honesty. "Somehow, I think your family's become too comfortable with how good a boy you are-I  _know_ your brother. He's a meat head. If someone like your uncle Arthur vasn't keeping up with him all the time, I think he'd be not nearly as focused as he is."

"Yeah, he's a doofus alright," the blond agrees with a watery chuckle.

Eyes alight with a bit of humor, his music teacher smirks. "I've talked vith him from time to time, your brother falls asleep much more than I vould like in this class. Every time I do, do you vant to know vhat he says?"

Holding his breath, the teenager urges the man on with his eyes.

"He says 'm so sorry, if only he vere more respectful like his brother...I  _never_ get calls about Matthew.'" Matthew grins and laughs. That  _does_ sound like Arthur alright. "And your papa," Mr. Edelstein continues, "He's friends with Gilbert-sometimes they come by my place to bother me-all he babbles about is how  _cute_ his  _mon chou_ is."

"That's papa," Matt concurs with a little smile.

"Do you know vhat your brother says, though? He says your the very best hockey player to ever grace this school-state- _country_ and says you'll be an Olympic hockey player."

"For the U.S right?" The blond snickered. "He used to cry when I said I wanted to play for Canada. He said awesome only belonged in the United States."

Grinning himself, his teacher nodded. "That's right," he finished. "Now Mr. Villiams..."

"I get it," Matthew cuts in. "Even if I feel like no one cares, I just need to look a little harder."

Mr. Edelstein nods. "You can always talk to me as vell, sometimes an unbiased party can be useful."

"Thanks sir," the teenager says. "I really appreciate it."

The purple eyes soft, he waves him away. "Hurry, if you run you might still catch your brother."

Scrambling to shuck his bag over his shoulder, Matthew begins to run. "Bye Mr. Edelstein!" He yells over his shoulder. Getting to the parking lot, he finds it empty of his brother's car. But he doesn't mind. His spirits too high from his music teacher's pep talk.

~xxx~

"Vho can tell me vhen the harpsichord vas invented?" Their teacher asks as he paces.

Several hands go up. Matt makes sure to wave, hoping that he will see him and call on him today (he has to, right? After everything yesterday). Purple eyes immediately got to Ludwig, but by some miracle, his eyes leave the German boy and lock on Matt.

Smiling, he calls "Mr. Villiams?"

"Before fourteen twenty-five!" The blond replies with loud pleasure. Several look at him as if they've not seen him before, but he doesn't care. His teacher's soft gaze is all he needs.

Nodding, the man put his hands behind his back and praises him. "That is correct, good job Mr. Villiams."

The teenager grins back, feeling for once like he is  _someone_. 


End file.
